StarCraft: Light and Darkness
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: While the Khala unified protoss society, it resulted in the banishment of the Dark Templar. What truly prevented the Dark Templar from submission? What caused such a schism of ideals? It was a question that Adun sought the answer to...


_Truth be told, I've had the idea for this kind of fic for quite some time. However, after reading Dark Templar: Firstborn (kickarse too), I decided to finally put fingers to the keyboard. And yes, much of this comes from Brave New World, one of my favourite books of all time._

_Anyway, enjoy. Or time._

Disclaimer: I don't own Starcraft or any of its characters.

**XXXX**

**Light and Darkness**

Aiur had always been a world of storms. Situated relatively close to its star and covered mostly by dense jungle, warm, moist air permeated the atmosphere, the moisture resulting in violent storms across its seas. It had always been this way on the jungle world and always would be.

In recent times however, there had been a storm of a different kind, one that, while not bound to eternity, had surpassed even the darker side of nature in its ability to take the lives of sentient creatures. Blood had fed Aiur's soil, lives had passed into nothingness and the storms of nature would face eternity alongside the scars of hatred.

The cause of this storm, a storm that would be known as the Aeon of Strife to later generations, was the strife of different egos, the result of the instinctive nature to find fault in others than in one's self. Even the protoss, the "firstborn", the most beloved children of the xel'naga, had not been above petty hatred, a hatred that had made itself manifest in the wake of their teachers' departure. The xel'naga had withdrawn their light from the world, leaving only a darkness. A darkness that reflected the potential for cruelty, hatred and sadism in every sentient being. With such depravity made manifest, ingrained into every aspect of the protoss psyche, it had seemed that the firstborn were doomed to bring about their own end. Wars were fought, the world scarred, protoss slaughtered, but then…

It stopped.

Khas, the one who brought order, had preached the Path of Ascension, the Khala. Through the Khaydarin Crystals, Khas had been able to link the minds of every protoss in existence, able to share even the most intricate of emotions. How could you kill another member of your species if you felt his pain as you did so? How could you rob a mother of her children when her grief was your own? For many protoss, there was only one answer…

They couldn't.

Still, emotions were volatile things, and such pain could be endured by the more battle hardened warriors. To ensure that the protoss ego would never again eclipse rationality, eclipse a sense of right and wrong, Khas had devised a rigid caste system that would replace protoss tribal society; the Judicators would rule over the protoss, the Templar would protect them, and the Khalai would rebuild their civilisation. These three castes would work together to ensure the benefit of society.

In what had been deemed the Second Age, the protoss had rallied behind Khas's vision, immediately filling out their ordained roles. In what seemed destined to be an age of peace and prosperity, the Aeon of Strife, a storm of bloodshed and conflict, had ended, hopefully never to be repeated.

But already another storm was brewing, this one both physical and symbolic. Despite all the Khas preached, despite the serenity the Khala brought, there were those who refused to embrace it, those who feared for their own egos, their individuality. Those that the Conclave, the new governing body of the protoss, deemed a threat to the very existence of their new society.

Those that were called the Dark Templar.

**XXXX**

Adun, champion of the Templar, the protégé of Khas himself, had never in his several centuries of life thought that he'd find himself in this kind of situation; taking shelter in a cave from an unnatural storm, sharing such a formation with a deluded individual that, despite her kind's stubbornness, he could not bring himself to slaughter, to serve the Conclave, to defend the Khala.

"_Probably a __vestige from the Aeon of Strife," _he thought to himself, finding the term quite fitting for the centuries of warfare that had followed in the wake of the xel'naga's departure. Despite being a warrior to the core, the protoss prayed that such a time would never come again, that he would never be forced to shed the blood of his own kind.

"_Of course, it may__ yet come to that," _he reflected bitterly, glancing at the one who he was sharing the cave with, the one whose kind had unleashed the storms that were ravaging Aiur, the one who was forcing him to disobey orders;

Razzagal.

Adun had fought as hard as any warrior in the Aeon of Strife, the lives of hundreds of protoss having come to an end at his hands. Looking back on those dark times, he felt sickened at what he had done, disgusted at his willingness to ignore the sanctity of life. But the fact remained that it _simply felt so right at the time._

But then Savassan came, the one known as Khas, the "One who Brought Order." Flocking to his vision, Adun had found something worth fighting for, a quest to unify his species and prevent it from extinction. Alongside his friend Taldarin, who had regretfully fallen in battle and placed inside a xel'naga statis field until he could be healed, Adun had come to be recognised as Khas's herald, the one who would spread the tenants of the Khala on the field of battle when such action was required.

Yet even now, there were those who refused to submit to the glory of the Khala, a group of tribes who, somewhat irrationally, feared it. Naming themselves the Dark Templar, a direct mockery to the caste that Adun now belonged to, the tribes had banded together, determined to remain independent from the caste based society that Khas had devised. In response to the perceived threat, the Conclave, the ruling body of the protoss which was made up of the most senior judicators, had given Adun one simple order…

Kill them all.

Adun felt his temper rising, psychic energy crackling in the air around him. These damned idiotic protoss were forcing him to disobey orders, for, as deluded as they were, they were still not worthy of experiencing the horror of genocide. Adun had done carried out enough mass murder in the Aeon of Strife to have reached the stage where he could no longer conceive of such a thing, at least not in a situation like this.

Therefore, Adun had stayed his hand, instead gathering the Dark Templar together and attempting to instruct them in the ways of the Khala, to tap into the psychic link that all protoss shared, to demonstrate the peace and serenity that the Khala brought. Although the Dark Templar were innately suspicious of the Khala, they were willing to sample it.

The results were…spectacular. In the most disastrous way possible.

Without the mental discipline that Khas and his followers possessed, the psychic powers of the Dark Templar had spiralled out of control, unleashing devastating storms across the fields of Aiur. It was from one of these storms that Adun and Razzagal were taking shelter from, their followers further below. Both had remained silent throughout the entire duration, Razzagal out of silent contempt and perhaps a little guilt for what her kind had unleashed. Adun remained silent out of concern for his well being and for that of the Dark Templar, despite their idiocy; the Conclave was beholding the same storms that he was, and would surely trace them to their source…

And deal with it.

Adun became aware that Razzagal was moving over towards the cave entrance, standing next to Adun. The distinction between those of the light and those of darkness was aptly demonstrated by the two protoss, Razzagal's grey skin and amber eyes standing in contrast to Adun's sea blue skin and eyes of deep emerald. While Adun stood tall and proud, a warrior through and through, Razzagal was more withdrawn, a sicklier figure. In essence, she demonstrated traits that the Dark Templar seemed doomed to display as time went on.

"So…" said Razzagal eventually, staring out into the storm that was ravaging this section of Aiur. "This is where the Khala leads."

"No, only your corruption of it," Adun grunted, his eyes flaring in suppressed rage at Razzagal's stubbornness, forcing him to disobey his superiors. While his moral centre remained, it was cold comfort for the likely repercussions that he'd experience for his insubordination.

"It wasn't all bad though," Razzagal continued, seemingly desperate to maintain conversation, stubborn silence having gone beyond its use by date.

"Indeed?" asked Adun, surprised at such an admission and secretly hopeful that Razzagal, a Dark Templar who held a great deal of influence over her kind, was finally seeing the facts of reality.

Razzagal nodded; "When I connected to the Khala, I felt…serene, at peace. Like…"

"Like nothing you ever felt before?" Adun asked.

"Yes…yes, that would be a good way to describe it," Razzagal admitted.

"Then why not submit to it?" Adun was getting excited, seeing the possibility that the Dark Templar could perhaps be swayed from the shadows.

Razzagal turned to face Khas's disciple, her amber eyes blazing; "Because the feeling was not my own."

"Your point being?" asked Adun, not seeing such a problem. "The Khala shares the emotions of all protoss, gives us universal joy."

Razzagal nodded; "Exactly. But universal joy, however constant and pleasant it may be, prevents an individual from experiencing his or her own feelings, her own emotions."

"And what's wrong with that?" Adun asked. "The Khala prevents us from feeling such emotions, prevents us from tapping into our own spirit.

"And that's a good thing?"

Adun nodded; "Of course. Individuality causes pain. Individuality causes division. Individuality causes strife. Individuality prompts competition between individuals, all vying for a place in society." He stared into Razzagal's eyes, the Dark Templar registering shock at such words;

"Don't overrate individuality Razzagal. It's nothing more than a vestige of natural selection. Almost like rape in a sense. By sacrificing such a thing, we've progressed as a society." Adun felt comfortable as he said such words, such fact making him feel warm and fuzzy.

"Indeed?" Razzagal whispered. "You haven't considered that the possibility that the Khala degenerates us into little more than drones, beings akin to insects? Are we protoss to become a race dedicated wholly to the benefit of overall society?"

"And there's a problem with that?" Adun asked. "When society benefits as a whole, those within society benefit also. In an organised society, pure experience provides joy rather than individualistic pursuits. Such things arise from division."

Razzagal shook her head; "It sounds rather horrible."

"Of course it does, to one such as yourself," said Adun simply, shrugging as he did so. "Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with over-compensations for misery. Stability isn't nearly so spectacular as instability. And of course, being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturequeness of a struggle against temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion or doubt." He sighed as he looked out at the storm that the Dark Templar had unleashed, almost forgetting that Razzagal was there; "Happiness is never grand."

"I suppose not," said Razzagal after a long silence. She turned to Adun; "But need society be so rigid as the caste system? Why not leave potential for change and progression?"

"Simple really," answered Adun. "Every change is a threat to stability. That was demonstrated by the departure of the xel'naga."

"True," admitted Razzagal, remembering how, in the wake of the xel'naga's departure, the protoss had turned on each other, blaming their counterpart tribes for the absence of their mentors. "But by refusing to accept change, you're building a society based on a dam." She glared at the warrior; "And sooner or later, that dam will burst."

Adun remained silent for a few seconds before turning to face the Dark Templar; "Perhaps. But surely the water itself is pleasant."

"Hardly," said Razzagal. "All water is the same, cohesion draws the molecules together. Water moves as one single entity." She glared at him; "You realise of course, that Khas is asking you to forsake the arts?"

Adun was stunned; "No! Of course not! Haven't you seen the murals we've carved, the statues we've created!?"

"But they're the products of the community, not the individual," said Razzagal firmly. Art, music, literature, philosophy… All stem from the spirit, of the soul itself. If they're regulated to efforts of the community, how is there any differentiation? If the arts are adapted into society, only monotony ensures."

Adun remained silent, turning out to face the abating storm. He knew that given how it would soon become safe to venture outside, the forces of the Conclave would soon be here, determined to finish what he had failed to do. If Razzagal's stubbornness represented that of all her kind, the Dark Templar were doomed to either be slaughtered or banished.

She had a point of course, and for the first time in decades, Adun felt doubt seeping into him. Much would be sacrificed in Khas's caste based society, things that were doomed to never resurface. But when the alternative was widespread bloodshed, weren't such sacrifices worth it?

Adun didn't know the answer to that question. But he'd made his choice nonetheless.

"You realise, of course, that you're claiming the right to be unhappy," he murmured to Razzagal.

Razzagal nodded; "Of course. But that's irrelevant. I want poetry, I want art, I want freedom, I want distinction between right and wrong." She glared at him; "I want the right to individuality."

"Not to mention the fight to face trials alone, the right to live in fear, the right to grief, the right to strife, the right to live in constant apprehension of what the future may bring."

There was a long silence, drowning out even the storm that the Dark Templar, those who claimed the right to both individuality and unhappiness, had unleashed. Finally Razzagal spoke;

"I claim them all," she said at last.

Adun shrugged, walking past her to the back of the cave, wanting to distance himself from such a deluded individual. Before he passed from Razzagal's sight however, he stopped, turned, and uttered what would be his final words to the female protoss;

"You're welcome to it."


End file.
